


Battle Scars

by thebluemartini



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Nessian - Freeform, Post-ACOFAS, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29229963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebluemartini/pseuds/thebluemartini
Summary: Nesta and Cassian finally address the war and its aftermath.
Relationships: Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	Battle Scars

**Author's Note:**

> Well, A Court of a Silver Flames is just a little over a week away, so I might as well post one final little Nessian fic before its release! So back in November, @hereforthemoment wrote the following post on Tumblr: 
> 
> Nesta and Cassian are sparring, right? And Cassian ends up on top of her with a dagger to her throat but at the last moment Nesta aims her dagger at his heart.  
> He says, “you’d be dead”  
> But she chuckles and says, “then I guess we’d go together”  
> Then they both become very serious and look into each other’s eyes until Nesta pushes him off of her and leaves the ring
> 
> I asked for permission to write a fic with this scene, and voila! I finally finished it! So here goes! (Thank you @hereforthemoment!!)  
> Tumblr post is located here: https://hereforthemoment.tumblr.com/post/634726159755673600/anyway-nesta-and-cassian-are-sparring-right-and

“Train with me, Nesta.”

She did not need to peel her eyes away from her dagger to discover who was talking to her. The low timbre of his voice was familiar to her—and one she heard nearly everyday. 

“That sounds like an order,” she answered coolly from where she sat on a log and continued to sharpen her dagger against the stone in her hand. “You are well aware that I’m not very fond of being told what to do,” she added in a casual tone. 

“My sincerest apologies,” he replied. Nesta kept her eyes down, but she could tell he must’ve been smiling to himself. These days, he always grinned whenever she spoke civilly to him...a vast difference from how they conversed with each other the first few months of her living in the Illyrian Mountains. Those conversations were more like verbal sparring matches. But now, several months later, the two of them were more like _...friends._

“What I meant to say was...would you do me the honor of dueling against me?” 

Letting the stone in her hand plop onto the snowy ground, she sheathed her dagger and finally looked up to see Cassian standing beside her. His hair was pulled back, allowing her to look directly into his eyes. 

The way he stared at her was...unnerving, and the way he treated her in recent weeks was equally unsettling. That fool actually had the audacity to make comments that would cause her lips to curve upwards into a smile. And he’d done things for her — like make her pancakes and retrieve new books for her — that made her feel like something was fluttering around in her stomach.

She had to shift her gaze. “You haven’t asked me to train with you before, General. Why now?” she asked, while suddenly finding the lacings along her sleeve to be quite fascinating. 

“Well, before, I feared you might _actually_ end up killing me in a duel.”

“What makes you so sure I won’t try to kill you now?” 

“I have reason to believe you rather enjoy this pretty face of mine.”

Nesta’s eyebrow rose in confusion as she stood up to face him. “Whatever gave you such delusions?” 

“I seem to recall you looking quite concerned when Merida scraped my cheek during training last week.”

“That’s because I wanted to have the pleasure of marking you myself,” she assured him as she crossed her arms against her chest. The scratch left by the Illyrian female who accidentally struck her dagger against his face was still there. 

“I can think of a few more interesting ways you could do that without weapons, sweetheart,” he remarked with a smug grin as he allowed his gaze to drop to her lips. 

Nesta glared at him. “Are you sure you want to spar with me right now? The urge to murder you is _definitely_ present.” 

Cassian smirked. “Well, I’m not the type to back down from a challenge I’ve already made. Let’s go to the ring.” 

* * *

  
In Nesta’s mind, every duel she engaged in was a story. Many of her fights with Illyrian females told tales of wild beasts that had been tied down for far too long that had now finally been able to roam free, progressing from rigid stances to more fluid movements within the span of the duel. 

Her current fight with Cassian told its own story—one that seemed to echo her and Cassian’s relationship since she moved here to the Illyrian Mountains. At first, his movements were slow and hesitant as he began circling around her, trying to gauge exactly what kind of fighter he was facing, while her own slashing motions at him were rapid. But he was quick to defend himself against her, blocking her dagger with his own. For a moment, her persistence seemed to frustrate him, causing him to finally attempt to strike back at her. Then their arms tired, and they spent less time sparring and more time analyzing the other as they circled each other. 

“You’ve grown stronger,” Cassian noted as he continued staring at her. 

“Are you surprised?” she asked, staring right back and noticing how the snowflakes fell on his eyelashes. 

“No,” he calmly replied. “I’m proud of you.” 

At the sight of her raised, quizzical brow, he continued, “You’ve overcome so much. It’s inspiring.” 

She would’ve raised her brow even higher if she was capable. To hear him say such a thing was...shocking. Alarming. Unsettling. Maybe even infuriating? But maybe she even felt a sense of pride, too...

“But you still have much to learn,” Cassian said with a strained breath and in a swift motion, he suddenly tackled her to the ground. 

Laying atop her body, Cassian pressed the tip of his dagger against her throat, careful not to nick her skin. 

“You’d be dead right now,” he muttered. 

But at that moment, he felt the tip of Nesta’s dagger pressing against his chest, right over his heart. Nesta let out a low chuckle. “Then I guess we’d go together.”

Cassian’s eyes quickly met hers, and her laughter faded. Silence fell between them—only the sounds of their ragged breathing could be heard as they looked at each other. 

Suddenly, with a shove, Nesta winced as she pushed Cassian off of her. Getting up, she sprinted out of the ring, leaving behind her dagger on the ground. 

“Nesta!” Cassian called out. “Nesta, wait!” In a quick movement, he stood up and charged after her as his own dagger tumbled to the ground. 

Determined, Nesta trudged her way through the snow with her arms folded across her body. The gusts of cold wind blowing against her face did not deter her. In fact, the biting cold helped distract her from thinking about the last time she almost died with Cassian. 

“Nesta!” Cassian called from behind her. She wasn’t walking fast enough. “Nesta, please. We need to talk.” 

“About _what_ ?” she shouted back, unable to resist the urge to yell at him and release her pent-up anger. Of course, she had _an idea_ about what he possibly would want to talk to her about, but she’d been wrong about that before. Back after the King of Hybern was dead and the war was over, she thought he’d seek her out and address what he said to her on the battlefield. But that never happened.

“Us, the war...everything!” he replied. His voice was louder now.

Inside, Nesta was seething and couldn’t help herself from bursting now. She abruptly halted and whipped around to face Cassian as he approached, catching him by surprise.

“You’ve had months—years, actually—to talk!” she exclaimed. “Why even bother at this point?” 

“Because...I’ve been such an idiot–”

“No argument there,” Nesta grumpily interjected as she crossed her arms against her chest. 

Cassian paused and took a few heavy breaths as he looked at her. “And we need to talk about it in order to move forward. Because I love–” 

“I need to go,” she interrupted him as she shook her head in disbelief at the words he was possibly about to utter. She turned around to resume her journey back to her cabin. 

“Nesta, this is coming out all wrong. Can we please just talk?” he asked as followed her and reached out to grab her hand in an attempt to make her stop. 

Instead, she furiously swatted his hand away, not noticing the patch of ice on the ground as she did so. She slipped, sending her sprawling to the ground, and let out a small yelp in the process as the sharp pain surged through her ankle. 

“Nesta!” Cassian was instantly beside her, crouching down to help her sit up. “Nesta, I’m so sorry. Are you all right?” 

“My ankle is twisted,” Nesta answered gruffly through clenched teeth, resisting the urge to bark her head off at him. “Leave it alone,” she ordered when Cassian placed his hand against her boot as if he were going to slide it off. 

“We should wrap your ankle with some snow,” he explained. 

“I will do it,” Nesta insisted with a frown, as she averted her eyes from Cassian. “Just leave me be and go on your way.” 

Confusion covered Cassian’s face. “Nesta, I’m not leaving you out here to suffer alone.”

“Why not? It’s what you’re good at.” Nesta spat back as she remained focused on pulling off her boot.

Cassian froze as her words punctured his heart. Silence passed between them while Nesta inspected her ankle. Cassian then reached for the small pouch belted at his waist, pulling out a gray lace cloth that was adorned with various Illyrian symbols. 

“I’d like to change my ways,” Cassian spoke faintly. “And become a man worthy of you…if you will let me.”

He grabbed a handful of snow and wrapped it within the cloth, then held out his makeshift ice pack, waiting for Nesta’s permission to place it around her ankle. She peered over at it, curious as to how and why he would have a cloth like that with him.

“This cloth belonged to my mother,” Cassian said upon noticing her staring. “I like to have it with me, especially in battle.”

Nesta’s frown disappeared and switched to a look of slight concern. “Why would you want to use that to wrap my ankle?” she asked in a softened voice. 

“It’s all I have with me,” he replied. “And I am willing to give you all that I have,” he said with a meaningful look. “If you will allow me,” he added. 

Feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, Nesta returned to inspecting her ankle. “Be gentle,” she instructed, granting him permission and not daring to say more out of fear of what Cassian was possibly implying. 

Cassian proceeded to gingerly wrap the cloth and snow around her swelling ankle, tying it so it was secure. “In the weeks when I was laying in bed, recovering from my injuries after the war…” he began hesitantly. “Every time I awoke, I always hoped you would be there when I opened my eyes.”

Nesta’s breath hitched upon hearing Cassian speak of the war, but she did not stop him from speaking. 

“But you never came,” he continued calmly, as he delicately slid her boot back onto her foot and began tying the laces. “And I was left feeling angry, bitter, and sad. I thought...after the way you shielded my body with my own, after our...after our kiss, that it would’ve meant _something_ to you. That you would _want_ to check on me and make sure I was all right and talk to me. But when you never showed, I assumed you wanted nothing to do with a low-born bastard like me. That everything between us meant nothing to you.”

Nesta absorbed every word he said as she watched his hands. But she allowed the sounds of the whistling wind to fill the silence instead of responding. 

“I can carry you back to the cabin, if you want,” he suggested as he stood up off the ground. 

Even when it came to the smallest things, Nesta hated not being the one in control. But with her ankle throbbing in pain and a long trek back to the cabin before her, it appeared she was left with no choice but to accept Cassian’s help. 

Yet, there was something endearing about his offer. He didn’t ask her if he could fly her back, which would be much faster than carrying her by foot. But he knew how much she detested flying and how sick it made her feel. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d recognized how she’d been feeling. As of late, he definitely had taken notice of certain things about her...like never starting a fire within the cabin because he realized its crackling sounds distressed her, always fully cooking the meat in her meals so it’s red juice wouldn’t remind her of bloodshed, and preparing a cup of tea for her each evening knowing it helped her sleep well each night. He even started remembering the little details about her, like how she prefers honey in her tea over sugar. 

Nesta gave a stiff nod. 

Cassian instantly knelt down to lift her up in both of his arms, careful not to jostle her ankle too much. 

As he began the trek to the cabin, Nesta turned her face toward his. While he had been learning more about her these past few months, there were still some things he did not yet understand. And there were things about him that she’d been wanting to understand. 

Feeling her gaze, he looked back at her. 

She took a deep breath. “In the weeks after the war, I was drowning,” she recalled calmly. “I was struggling to deal with all that happened in the war, from fighting the king to dealing with my father’s death to coming to terms with my powers.” Her voice fell into a whisper. “Do you think I was ready to deal with...whatever I may have felt for you at the time on top of that? Do you think I would’ve wanted to visit you and see firsthand the after-effects of a war that I was already having nightmares about each night?” 

With a somber look darkening his face — an expression that Nesta wasn’t sure she’d ever seen grace his face before — Cassian stopped. 

Squeezing her more tightly in his arms, he raised her a little higher so he could bring his face closer to hers. “I’m so sorry, Nesta,” he said. “I’ve...failed you so many times. I chose to be bitter. I was hurt that you appeared to despise me while I was in love with you.”

While she could sense his apology was genuine, there was still more she needed to know and comprehend. And more that he needed to realize. “You promised more time with me out on the battlefield, then abandoned me. Then, you agreed to send me away to live here in the mountains against my will. Is that love to you?” she wondered sadly. “You told me that you didn’t understand how my sisters could love me. Would you call that love, too?”

A tear shone in Cassian’s eye as he shook his head vigorously. “No, absolutely not,” he insisted. “I realize how wrong I’ve been. I’m so sorry I gave into my pain and tried to hurt you the way I felt you had hurt me. I hope, in time, you can forgive me.” 

Nesta found she couldn’t reply. Not just yet. She’d been wrestling with thoughts of how he treated her in the past, compared to the way he’d made her feel as of late. 

Cassian soon resumed walking, striding through the snow with determined steps and an intense, serious facial expression. 

The rest of the journey to the cabin was quiet, but once Cassian stepped upon the porch outside the front door, Nesta held up the palm of her hand and rested it upon his chest, catching his attention. “Cassian, I want to forgive you,” she confessed softly. “But I… I need to see that I can trust you.” 

Cassian nodded, turning his head down. “I understand,” he said. “You don’t know how much I wish we could start over. That we could go back to the end of the war, so I could be there for you afterwards,” he stated wistfully.

Nesta moved her hand up to his cheek, capturing his gaze again. “Then, let’s start over.” 

“What?” he asked, puzzled. 

“Begin again by making me a promise, and prove to me that you can keep it this time,” she proposed.

Cassian took a deep breath before tilting his head down and staring deep into her steel eyes. “My only regrets in this life are the ways I’ve failed you and how I’ve wasted time that could’ve been spent better with you, Nesta. We will have that time now. I promise.” 

He tightened his grasp on her, and to his astonishment, she lifted her head up and planted a sweet, brief kiss upon his lips. 

When she pulled back, she rested her forehead against his. “It just felt like something was missing after such a promise,” she admitted with a slight grin playing at her lips. Cassian let out a low chuckle. 

“Don’t screw up this time,” she added in a whisper. 

“There’s no way I’m losing you this time, sweetheart.”

**Author's Note:**

> In writing this, I realized that I wished there were more synonyms for “stare” because I am ALL ABOUT intense gazes between Nesta and Cassian! So apologies for the overuse of the word. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked it! I was pretty determined to include a Nessian kiss in here, but obviously those two still have a lot to heal through here...more than a oneshot allows :) so thank goodness ACOSF is almost here to do that for us! I had hoped to finish this fic weeks ago so there was a good chunk of time before the release but here we are. (While I am DYING for this book, I do feel a tinge of sadness over the fact that most of my Nessian fics will no longer be canon-compliant! XD) 
> 
> Thank you for reading and thanks again @hereforthemoment for the fic inspiration!


End file.
